


Family Is What You Make It

by angels3



Category: Dark Angel, Supernatual
Genre: Crossover, M/M, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-08-05
Updated: 2013-06-18
Packaged: 2017-11-11 12:46:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/478692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angels3/pseuds/angels3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bobby makes a discovery that can turn Dean and Sam's world upside down, or it could give them something else to hold on to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a WIP. I am unfortunately not one of those authors that can keep to a specific posting schedule but I won't ever leave a story unfinished.

Bobby rubbed his left eye until he could see spots behind his eyelid. He was too damn old to be making long road trips on little to no sleep. He cranked the handle on the side of the door, rolling the window down some to get a blast of cool air, hoping it would help wake him up.

Bobby caught movement from the side of the road just seconds before a figure hurtled into the road right in front of his car. He slammed on the brakes, and the squealing of metal and smell of rubber burning across asphalt assaulted his ears and nose.

The thud of the a fender making contact with another solid object echoed sickeningly in the silence. Bobby closed his eyes, praying that when his legs would hold him up all he'd find was a deer or maybe a farm animal.

He pushed the door open, wincing at the loud creak that bounced of the woods surrounding the roadway. Bobby moved to the front of the car expecting to find a crumpled body. He was greeted with a dented passenger side fender, broken headlight, plastic strewn asphalt, but no body or animal carcass.

He scratched his head in confusion. Straightening his hat, he bent closer to examine the damage done to the car. He was just standing up when his eyes landed on several drops splattered on the dark expanse of roadway.

Bobby reached out, touching one and bringing the evidence up for a closer inspection. The headlights bounced off the garish red fluid smeared across his fingers leaving no question that it was blood.

***************

It had taken Bobby almost a full day to track the something he'd hit. The longer the day wore on, the easier it the trail had been to follow. The progress from 'hardly a trace’ to tracks ‘any blind man could follow' told Bobby that exhaustion and injury was about to bring whatever it was to ground.

A couple of hours before sundown and the trail stopped dead. If he hadn't already known that there was no way he'd lost the trail, he'd have given up after an hour of looking and headed back the way he'd come. The weather had started to turn a few hours back. The temperature had dropped as the winds picked up, and the clouds rolled in to cover the once bright and sunny day. Bobby felt a chill in the air as the wind picked up around him.

He was contemplating setting up camp when a gust of wind blew through the woods and produced an odd whistling noise. It didn't take long for Bobby to find the entrance to a den. Vines and weedy overgrowth that most people would have overlooked covered the opening.

He wasn't most people, but he had a feeling if whatever he'd been tracking had been in better shape he wouldn't have found it either. His choices were limited, crawl in and find what he'd been chasing, or set up camp and wait until it decided to leave its hiding spot.

The blood trail he'd followed turned the tide in favor of crawling in instead of waiting. He grabbed his flashlight, checked that he had both his gun and knife before cautiously inching his way into the small opening. Once he'd cleared the first several feet, he was able to stand hunched over, which had his knees thanking him but his back cursing him.

Thankfully, a few more feet in and he was able to stand to his full height. He swept the flashlight around the cavern, keeping his back to the closest wall. Mother Nature had cut a deep hole into the rocks leaving behind smooth stone at the base where Bobby was sure water had run at some point in the distant past.

Higher up, the walls were rough with sharp rocks jutting out, waiting to stab at unsuspecting flesh. He dropped the focus of his flashlight, running the beam along the floor of the cave, and almost missed the huddled form pushed as far back into the corner as humanly possible, but several patches of red caught and held in the weak light.

Bobby carefully made his way closer, opting not to call any more attention to himself than his entrance had already done. He was almost positive the creature was either already dead or unconscious, but he wasn't taking any chances. He crouched down next to the body, reaching out to shake the shoulder closest to him, while keeping as much distance as he could.

"Hey buddy. You okay?"

When he received no response, he reached over and felt for a pulse. The week thump against his fingers did nothing to slow his own racing heart. He moved the light over the figure’s back, which was about the only part he could see at the moment. There were long lines of blood plastering the shirt up against skin.

"What in the hell have you gotten yourself into?" Bobby grumbled under his breath.

Finally out of options, he reached out and pulled until the body rolled towards him, a small moan echoing in the cave as the motion jarred more wounds Bobby was sure were still hidden from his view.

He looked down at the body in front of him, getting a glimpse at what he'd been chasing all day long. The light played over sandy blonde hair, long pale lashes rested against too thin angular cheeks, labored breaths puffed out of chapped lips that were way too familiar looking.

"Well, balls," Bobby whispered, scratching his head in confusion and worry.

************************************************

"Is your brother with you?" Bobby's gruff demand caught Sam by surprise when he answered the phone.

"Not right this second. He went to get us something to eat. Why?" A ball of anxiety built in his stomach as he waited for a response.

"You've not run into anything odd lately, have you?

"Bobby, our whole life is odd. Can you be a little more specific?"

"Witches, tricksters or something of the like?"

"No, we just finished a hunt with Melusina who was eating her dates," Sam offered.

"Where are you at right now?" Bobby asked, filing the boys latest hunt away for future discussion.

"Kinzua Lake, Pennsylvania," Sam answered. He started grabbing items from around the room and throwing them into their duffle bags.

"All right, I'm on the outskirts of Oregon. Grab your brother and meet me at the house."

Bobby's line went dead before Sam could reply.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will not follow the storyline of Dark Angel anymore than it will follow the storyline of Supernatural since this is a crossover. Even though it would have rocked to see the two shows do a joint episode.

Dean pushed the motel room door open expecting to find Sam in the shower or on the computer, so he had no idea why his brother was sitting on the bed with their bags packed around him and looking rather impatient.

"You not answering your phone for a reason?" Sam snipped.

Dean pulled it out of his pocket as he set the food on the table, and tossed it to his brother. "Dead remember. I forgot to leave it so you could hook it up. Want to tell me why we're all packed up when I thought we were staying an extra day?"

"Bobby called," Sam answered.

"Did he say what he needed?" Dean asked, picking up his duffle and the weapons bag.

"He asked me where you were and if we'd run into anything odd."

"That's all he said?"

"Nope. He told us to meet him at the house and hung up." Sam grabbed his bag and the food and followed Dean out the door.

"Typical," Dean grumbled as he shut the trunk.

Bobby had always been there for them, filling in as a babysitter when they were young, and later, a mentor and endless well of knowledge when they were older and found themselves very much alone. There was nothing he wouldn't do for the man, but sometimes Bobby's love for the dramatics made Dean wonder if he hadn't missed his true calling as an actor.

He slid behind the wheel, grabbing the burger Sam held out to him as he started the car. "Did you check the weather?"

"There're some storms rolling through, but they should be gone before we hit the area," Sam mumbled around his burrito.

"Well, let's go see what he's gotten himself into." Dean gunned the engine, the tires squealing as they left the parking lot.

***************

Bobby had bedded down in the cave after patching the kid up as best he could with what little light there was and the first aid equipment he had. He'd have preferred to get them both out of there as quick as possible, but the storm had finally hit. Bobby knew there was no way he'd get them both back to the car without possibly getting struck by lightening or a flying tree branch.

He'd gotten about five hours of sleep before the lack of wailing told him the storm had dissipated. Bobby pulled the travois behind him until he reached the car. He'd noticed the night before it looked like they'd been circling the area and the kid had been doubling back. He was elated to find out that he had been doing just that and it hadn't taken him long to get to the road.

Bobby had hated putting the kid in the trunk, but he couldn't risk the boy waking up and throttling him. He'd piled the blankets on top of the false bottom and made sure the kid's body was braced so he wouldn't be rolling around and getting even more banged up.

When he caught sight of the roadblock he wasn't all that surprised. The kid had been running from something other than him. Bobby figured the storm had wiped out most if not all of the evidence of their path through the woods and left the folks chasing the kid with nothing to go on. Now he just had to talk his way through the roadblock without a search.

Bobby rolled his window down and waited for the deputy to approach the car. He noticed another man checking out the damage to the front of his car. Bobby kept him in his peripheral vision until he disappeared from it. He checked his automatic reflex to look in his rear view mirror, instead focusing on the officer.

"License and registration please?" The middle age officer requested.

Bobby handed over the requested items, waiting for the officer to move back to his vehicle before glancing in the mirror. The man lingered at the trunk for a moment before moving away and walking up to his window.

"Got some damage there." The man indicated the front passenger side.

"Yep, hit a deer coming through Yakima, lucky that was all the damage it did," Bobby agreed.

"Might want to get that fixed," the man answered mildly before walking off to join the deputy.

Bobby snuck his phone up just over the steering wheel and took a few quick pictures. He'd just dropped the phone back onto the seat when the deputy turned towards the car. Bobby held his breath, waiting for the order to get out.

The deputy held out his license and registration. "You need to get that light fixed."

"I'll do that just as soon as I get home," Bobby offered, the license and registration he'd given them was for Spokane Washington, which would have given him plenty of time to get home before he'd need lights.

The deputy nodded before waving him through, making his way back to the car idling behind Bobby's. He pulled forward, giving a wave to the other man, committing his face to memory before driving off.

Bobby picked up the phone and dialed Dean as soon as he was a few miles up the road. "Damn it boy!" Bobby exclaimed when it went straight to voicemail.

He tried once more with the same result before calling Sam. He kept the conversation short. Time was of the essence at this point, and he had to make a stop before he could really start the trip home.

***************

The drive should have taken them almost twenty-two hours, but with Dean behind the wheel they made it to Bobby's house in under eighteen. Sam had tried to get his brother to take a break and at least let him do some of the driving, even though he knew there was little chance of that happening when Bobby needed them. It hadn't helped either of their stress levels with no information to go on, but he assumed their friend had a good reason for it.

Dean pulled the Impala around back of Bobby's house parking in one of the hangers, and shut the engine off. He sat for a second, flexing his hands. He knew he'd pushed hard and his body was telling him he was getting too damn old for it. There used to be a time when he could drive days at a time and there were no repercussions, but unfortunately, at 29 and with the job they did, his bones ached more often than not when left in one position too long.

He glanced over at Sam who hadn't moved either, waiting on him to take the lead. It wasn't like his brother had a problem being assertive, he just wasn't anymore interested in hearing bad news than Dean was.

"Might as well find out what's going on," Dean spoke into the silence, pushing open the door.

"Yeah," Sam sighed, pushing his own door open and heading to the trunk to help his brother get their bags.

Sam could feel the stress rolling off Dean when Bobby met them at the door looking like he hadn't slept in a week. He shrugged when his brother shot him a worried look and waited for Dean to follow Bobby before he did the same.

Dean's patience held until Bobby sat down and poured them all a glass of whiskey, but not knowing what was going on had been eating a hole in his gut for too many hours.

"What the hell's going on Bobby? You call us in the middle of the night, tell us to get here as fast as we can, don't tell us why and you look like shit!" Dean finally exploded.

"Keep your damn voice down," Bobby growled, slumping back in the chair even as he glanced up at the ceiling like he could see through it. Finishing off his drink, he leaned back up and rested his arms on his desk.

"I had a hunt over in Tacoma, decided it was worth it to head on out when I got done instead of sticking around. I was about halfway to Ellensburg when something came flying out of the woods and right in front of the car. "

"Jesus Christ." Dean scrubbed his hands over his face and grabbed the whiskey bottle, pouring another measure into the glass.

"Yeah, figured I had really screwed the pooch on that one, thought if I was really lucky it was a deer or something like that. When I got out of the car there was nothing there, but I was checking out the damage and saw blood. Took me a day to track it, never even got a glimpse of what I was after, but it didn't feel right to leave something to suffer either so I kept following."

"What was it?" Sam asked, afraid he might already know.

"It was a kid." Bobby sighed, leaning back again. "He couldn't be more than seventeen, eighteen at the most. Looked like he'd been a few rounds with a sadist too.

"I'm assuming he's upstairs?" Dean asked, referencing Bobby's odd behavior when they'd arrived.

"Yeah. Damn near threw my back out getting him up there too. Hated moving him as much as I did but I couldn't leave him in the trunk."

"Trunk? Why the fuck was he in your trunk?" Dean shot an appalled look at his brother.

"I couldn't rightly take him to the hospital," Bobby growled back.

"Why the hell not?" Both boys asked in unison.

"Tell you what, go take a look for yourself, then come back down and ask me."

Dean's foot was on the first step, Sam following close behind when Bobby's voice caused them to pause.

"Oh, and by the way, I've done all the tests. No reaction to silver, salt, iron, exorcisms or Christo."

"Shit!" Sam grumbled, hot on Dean's heels as they climbed the stairs heading to the room John always used when they'd stayed there.

Dean waited for Sam to catch up before he pushed the door open, careful to make as little noise as possible. At first glance, all they could make out was the kids back, it was littered with wounds in various stages of healing, the arm that was visible was wrapped in bandages and there was an odd tattoo peeking out below the kid’s hair.

"Look Sam, his hair is almost as long as yours," Dean mumbled, easing his way into the room, intent on seeing what had freaked Bobby out.

Dean grunted when Sam ran into him. He couldn't really complain, he'd been the one to come to a dead stop. "Seriously, why do they always pick my face?" Dean hissed.

"At least it's not the exact same face. You had to be what sixteen when you looked like that, of course, I don't remember your hair ever being that long," Sam whispered back.

"Damn right it wasn't. Can you imagine me trying to hustle pool looking like that? Somebody would have had me bent over the pool table."

"Not like they don't try that anyway," Sam grumbled, refusing to acknowledge why it pissed him off every time it happened.

Dean ignored him, instead focusing on even more injuries covering the boys face and chest." Jesus Christ, what chewed him up and spat him out?"

Sam had been wondering the same thing, he just didn't have any better answer than Dean did so he kept his mouth shut. He tugged on Dean's sleeve to get his attention, nodding his head at the door.

Dean took one more look at the kid before he followed his brother out, shutting the door behind him.

They found Bobby in the kitchen pulling the makings for sandwiches out of the fridge. He glanced up, checking their measure before going back to his task.

Dean dropped into one of the kitchen chairs, shifting his legs out of the way as Sam slid into the one beside him.

"Okay, no hospitals. How about one of the guys that patches us up?" Dean asked, exhaustion creeping into his voice.

"Nobody close by right now. Funny thing is, he's healing pretty damn fast all on his own. I mean, he looks bad now, but he was a damn sight worse when I got to him," Bobby answered, piling all the fixings on the table.

"So what should we even be addressing first, his injuries or the fact that he looks like Dean ten years ago?" Sam asked as he made his sandwich.

"Hell if I know, it's all I can do to keep my eyes open right now. That's probably not our biggest concerns either."

"What do you mean?" Dean asked around a bite of ham and cheese.

"I ran into a roadblock coming out of Ellensburg. Mostly local PD but there was this one guy there, didn't like the vibe I was getting off him." Bobby pulled his phone out and handed it to Dean.

"You think they were after the kid?" Sam leaned over so he could take a look at the pictures his brother was scrolling through.

"Seems a pretty good bet. Guy was definitely some sort of military or secret ops. I'm going to get a friend of mine to run it down, keep everything quiet like."

"You don't think they followed you back do you?" Sam couldn't help asking.

"Naw, the dumb schmuck put a tracker on me. I dropped it off on the road to my fake address." Bobby gave them an evil grin.

"Shit, they weren't joking around were they?"

"Made me not regret sticking the kid in the trunk after all. No telling where he'd be if they'd seen him, and until we clear up the mystery to why he has your face, I'd prefer him with us."

They'd all turned in a couple of hours later, but Dean hadn't been able to wind down enough to sleep. Even the alcohol hadn't been enough to soothe his raw nerves, and after getting a look at the kid, the uncertainty of everything had made him even more restless. He'd tried to figure out how someone else could be wearing his face without the help of supernatural means.

Dean had seen siblings with uncanny resemblances, but that required both parents to be involved, and he knew that wasn't possible in this instance. Even if his dad had done the deed with someone else, a thought that made him shudder, the chances the kid would come out looking like he had were so astronomical not to be taken seriously.

He knew he had been an early bloomer but even twelve had been a little to early for him, so there was no way in hell it was his kid, and he hadn't ever jacked off in a cup so that was out as well. Cloning was illegal, but Bobby was positive the military was involved so anything was possible, but then how did they get his DNA?

Dean was still sitting mulling over that possibility, which was why when the fifth step from the bottom creaked, he slid into the shadows to see who was creeping around the house. He watched as the kid flinched at each small noise but continued down the steps even as he glanced up to see if anyone was coming after him. Dean could see that every movement the boy made was hampered by pain and a stiffness that couldn't be hidden in the slow careful descent that he was witnessing.

"Going somewhere?" Dean asked. He'd waited until the kid was on the next to the last step before saying anything so the boy wouldn't fall and brain himself.

"Holy shit!" The boy gasped before wincing and grabbing his side.

Dean stepped out of the shadows, reaching out to steady the wobbling figure, but dropped his hands when the kid shrank back. He studied the boys face, the same way his was being studied. It was weird as hell seeing what he looked like ten years ago standing in front of him, of course, the kid was probably trying to come to terms with seeing himself ten years older.

"Why don't we go sit down before you fall down," Dean suggested, gesturing towards the living room. Bobby had left the fire going so the room was warm and it meant he wouldn't have to leave the kid alone to find more clothes because he could already see small shivers racking the boy’s slender frame.

Dean watched as the kid glanced towards the living room and then back at the door before his shoulders slumped in defeat. He waited until the kid shuffled his way in the direction he'd pointed before following at a slower pace to keep the boy from feeling rushed.

He grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, never taking his eyes off their visitor. Dean had to admit he was impressed when the kid did a quick evaluation of his surroundings and settled in the most defensible position. He cracked the top on the bottle took a swig and then set it down on the table in front of the boy, making sure to keep as much distance between them as possible.

Green eyes tracked his every movement, only dropping to the bottle when he was several feet away and sitting down. Dean relaxed some when the boy's hand darted out, snatching the water off the table. It was closing in on forty-eight hours and the kid had to be dehydrated.

He waited until half the bottle was finished before he cleared his throat, bringing the boy's focus back to him, not that it had ever been completely off. Dean wanted answers. Unfortunately, he wasn't sure what questions to ask, so he started with the most obvious one first.

"What's your name?"

Dean sighed, getting up to grab another bottle of water from the refrigerator when all that came out of kid’s mouth was a dry raspy cough. He set the bottle down in the same spot and went back to his seat.

"You need to slow down some or it's all going to come right back up," he advised as he watched the boy drain the second bottle.

He was met with a very familiar glare. It was both disturbing and amusing. If he'd learned nothing else from John Winchester, it was the art of waiting for the opponent to crack. Dean didn't respond, just continued to watch the boy in front of him, knowing it wouldn't take quite as long as it would if the kid had been in better shape.

"What do you want with me?" The boy croaked out ten minutes into the standoff.

"For the record, I don't want anything with you. I would like to know your name because I'm getting tired of thinking of you as ‘the kid’ or ‘the boy’," Dean answered, making sure his demeanor remained relaxed and unthreatening.

"Do I get to get out of here if I tell you?" The boy tried to come across as confident and forceful but only managed to aggravate his raw vocal chords.

Dean hid his smirk behind the glass of whiskey he'd been holding, the sarcasm lost some of its edge when it was followed by a coughing fit that left the kid gasping for breath. Dean had to give him points for the try though.

"Nope. I don't think you'd get more than ten feet before you fell on your face." He waited for the denial he was sure would come, and wasn't disappointed.

"The hell I couldn't!" the kid blustered, but didn't stand up or make a move for the door. He trailed off mumbling... "must not have put enough juice in your cocktail."

Dean almost missed the last part it was said so low, but he filed it away until he had time to examine it. He went back to studying the slumped figure, waiting to see if he'd finally get a name or if they were at a stalemate.

"Alec, my name's Alec."


	3. Chapter 3

He woke with a start, the motion pulling at healing wounds, every bone in his body ached and his head felt like someone had used it for a pinata. X5-494 sat up slowly, he had no idea where he was, but it wasn't Manticore. The room was small, not as small as the cell he'd been in the last few months, but there was a dresser and two doors, one that probably led to a closet. The bed he was laying on was soft, the mattress old, but definitely not the hard slabs Manticore favored.

There was nothing in the room that would tell him where he was, or who had him. The windows were unobstructed, and neither door looked as if it had locks on them. He wasn't cuffed to the bed or in any other way bound so to say he was confused would have been an understatement.

He searched his memory for some clue as to how he would have come to be wherever here was. There had been some kind of commotion outside of his room, the sirens had started blaring and he remembered some of the lab rats running past his cell. The last round of tests they'd subjected him to had left him bleeding freely from several open wounds and they'd injected him with so many different chemicals he was amazed he wasn't dead already. 

There was no telling what any of them had been, but he was sure at least one of them was interfering with his ability to heal properly because there was no way he'd still be in the shape he was in if everything was working the way it was supposed to. He remembered dragging himself to the door, but the hallways were empty, the guards having disappeared to deal with whatever had been happening. 

Then there was a click and the door he'd been leaning against swung open. He'd wondered if it was a test at first, to see if he'd run, but the more he thought about it, the more unlikely it became. It seemed too big a scene to set up just to find out if he'd bolt given the opportunity. Either way, he wasn't sticking around to find out. He was pretty damn sure they'd marked him for termination.

When he cleared the building, he was shocked to see complete chaos. Guards and lab rats were running this way and that, and there were others like him making breaks for it, trying to escape a life that had been given to them without their choosing. He followed the line of fence until he came to a hole where something fairly big and very angry had ripped the fencing back, making a decent size gap.

He heard feet pounding down behind him, and without a backwards glance, he rolled through the hole and headed for the cover of the woods. In Manticore's desire to stay hidden from view, the surrounding areas were wooded and perfect cover for the super-soldiers they had been intent on creating. 494 used that to his advantage and made it several miles before he ran into trouble.

Unfortunately, he meant that literally since he'd run out in front of a car. He'd tried to move faster as soon as he realized it was there but didn't quite make it as the front corner clipped him in the hip and sent him reeling towards the other side of the road. He'd tumbled past the first line of trees and remembered just barely gaining his feet before he heard a car door slam. 

Things started getting blurry after that, but he knew he'd been moving on sheer will alone. When he'd spotted the depression in the rock face, he'd collapsed in front of the opening and crawled his way as far back as he could before he passed out. He didn't remember anything after that, not being moved, or transported or put in the bed he'd woke up in.

There were bandages littering the deeper wounds and both his arms were wrapped as well as one of his legs. The rest had some sort of salve smeared across them, and on closer inspection, seemed to be an antibiotic cream. His clothes were gone, but he was still in boxers and someone had left a set of pajamas on the end of the bed.

He reached out, grabbing them. He could tell they had been washed multiple times because the fabric was soft against his abused body and he sighed in relief. It was strange how something as thin as cotton could make a person feel like they were wearing a suit of armor. He eased out of bed looking around for shoes, but he hadn't had any when he'd run   
and there were none in the room.

The floor creaked halfway across the room and he froze, waiting for someone to burst through the door. When nothing happened, he pushed the door open, sticking his head into the hallway and looking around. No one jumped out of any of the rooms he passed and he let the breath he'd been holding escape when he made it to the stairs.   
The steps looked endless, but he didn't want to stick around to find out what was going on so he sucked it up and slowly started down them, flinching when one of the steps creaked and groaned.

He'd almost made it to the bottom when a voice out of the darkness scared the shit out of him. 494 jerked back, grabbing at the banister. The sudden move made every muscle scream and his cracked ribs drove the breath out of him.

The man that stepped out of the shadow reached forward to steady him, but he flinched back when he finally got a good look at the figure in front of him. It was him, well it was him several years older and a lot more muscular. 

His clone...or was he the clone? 494 shook his head to clear it while the other guy suggested he sit down. He really, really wanted to, but escape was all he could think about. He looked into the living room and then back at the door. The man standing in front of it appeared to be relaxed, but 494 could see the tension in the line of his body and the coiled energy that could and would strike if needed.

494 knew there wasn't a chance in hell that he'd make it past the man in the shape he was in. His shoulders dropped and the adrenaline he'd be running on leeched out of his body. He stepped off the stairs and shuffled his way towards the living room where a fire was still burning. 494 inspected the area, opting for a chair in the corner, it was the best place to see every exit, not that he thought he was going to get the chance to use one. 

He tracked the older man's movements as he opened the refrigerator and pulled a bottle of water out. His mouth was so dry it couldn't even water, but he knew better than to take offered drinks. Obviously, the man knew what he was thinking because he cracked the lid of the bottle and took a long swallow, setting the bottle down in front of him. 

494 was both disturbed and impressed, the man had stayed clear of any sudden attacks he could pose while seemingly reading his mind. It wasn't going to be easy escaping if there was someone that knew exactly what he was thinking.

As soon as the man was out of reach, he snatched the bottle off the table and didn't stop until he'd drained it dry. He tried to speak but all that came out was a dry cough that rattled his ribs and made his throat hurt. The man sighed and got up to get another bottle of water. 494 he took the bottle as soon as it was offered and was halfway through it when the man suggested he slow down.

494 glared at him, but slowed down anyway. There was no way his body would tolerate throwing up and it would leave him even more vulnerable than he already was. He decided to try and negotiate his way out of his situation. When the man told him he wouldn't make it far, it pissed him off. It pissed him off even more that the man was right.

He didn't have a clue who the guy was. There was a chance he was an earlier Manticore model, but there wasn't a mark on the guy's neck. He'd heard stories that the earlier experiments didn't have tattoos. 494 wasn't sure what to believe but he couldn't ignore the fact that he was related to this guy somehow, even if it was just by cloned DNA.

When the man asked for his name again, the only thing he could remember was that one of the lab rats a.k.a. tormentors had called him a smart alec. It wasn’t like it was his fault, he didn't engineer himself, if they didn't like it they should have edited it out of his code. It was a good as name as any, he supposed.

"Alec. My name is Alec."

"Alec, huh. You got a last name Alec?" Dean asked. He was pretty sure he wasn't going to get one and the kid didn't disappoint.

"Not one that I'm giving you," Alec replied.

Dean held his hands up in the universal gesture of surrender. "All right. You want to tell me who messed you up like that?"

Alec sat stone silent watching the man in front of him.

"Fine. My name's Dean. The man that found you is Bobby, he's also the one that you ran out in front of. My brother Sam's upstairs sleeping, which is where you belong," Dean informed him.

Alec didn't respond, just kept watching the man who'd finally given him a few hints to where he was. It was going to be a hell of a lot harder getting out of there now that he knew there were three of them. 

Dean was about to suggest Alec go back upstairs when the kid’s stomach growled. "You want something to eat? I can make you a couple of sandwiches. When was the last time you ate?"

"Don't know. How long have I been here?"

"About twelve hours. Bobby called us last night. He was still on the road with you. He hadn't been here long when we showed up." Dean motioned for Alec to follow him, waiting until the kid eased himself out of the chair and followed.

"Where is here?'

"Sioux Falls, South Dakota."

Alec blinked. He'd seen the signs on the roads when he'd been running so he knew he'd started out in Washington. If he was several states away then he might just stand a chance of getting away from Manticore. He'd heard stories about others escaping, but they always got caught because they stayed in and around the Seattle area. 

Alec had always wondered if there was some kind of homing beacon added to their DNA. If so, it was possible that they wouldn't be looking for him this far away, and he certainly had no desire to go back and let them finish what the lab rats had started.

Dean worked on the sandwiches, all the while watching Alec process the information he'd been given. Seeing the different emotions war across the kid’s face made him understand why his dad had always been able to tell when he was lying.

He set the plate down in front of the kid, grabbing a bag of chips and putting it on the table. By the time he'd grabbed a bottle of water for Alec and a beer for himself, one of the three sandwiches had disappeared.

"Might want to slow down some before you choke," he warned, laughing when all he got was a glare. He shrugged, "just saying man."

Alec ignored him, polishing off all three sandwiches and the bag of chips. When he finally sat back in his chair and raised his eyes to Dean's, he saw barely concealed humor and a   
little bit of horrified awe.

"What?" He mumbled.

"Nothing, it's just Bobby's grocery bill probably just tripled, " Dean answered, laughing.

Alec ducked his head, trying to hide the blush that was creeping up his neck. He was pretty damn sure he'd never blushed before, but he had no idea how to respond. When Dean suggested for the second time he go back upstairs and get some rest, he didn't bother fighting. If they'd wanted him dead, they'd had plenty of time to do it.

He left Dean cleaning up the kitchen and trudged back up the stairs, a quick check and he found the bathroom, which he made use of before locating the room he'd been in. Alec slid beneath the blankets, tucking them around his body to ward out the chill. He tried to stay awake long enough to figure out what his next step should be, but exhaustion quickly embraced him, pulling him into a deep sleep.

***************

Dean made quick work of the kitchen. He had to admit even if it was to himself he was dead on his feet. He checked the windows and doors one more time before he headed up the stairs to the room he and Sam shared whenever they were at Bobby's.

He was careful not to wake his brother up because there was no way he had the energy to explain what he'd been doing downstairs. Dean had just had a feeling that he needed to be down there, and he'd learned a long time ago to trust those instincts.

When he finally came awake several hours later, the sun was shining through the curtains and Sam's bed was empty. Dean sat on the edge of the bed, giving his muscles time to stop protesting. They were stiff most mornings but the amount of driving he'd done the day before had made it ten times worse. 

He groaned as he stood up, stretching to help relieve some of the tension and listening to the harmony of pops his joints made as he did it. Dean pulled on some jeans, a long sleeve shirt, and shuffled his way to the bathroom. 

Dean was debating going back into his room for socks and shoes when the smell of coffee made him forget the idea and head down the stairs. He glanced back at the closed door to Alec's room, and hoped the kid had taken his advice and gone back to sleep.

He shrugged a little when Sam shot him a concerned look, settling into the seat beside his brother. Dean grabbed the mug of coffee Bobby set in front of him with both hands and inhaled the scent of heaven, before taking a large swallow.

Bobby added bacon to the eggs and sausage that were already on the table before joining both boys at the table. No one spoke for the first few minutes, everyone enjoying the hot food and the rare occasion to relax completely.

"So I checked on the kid, and he's still sleeping. I think we might have to put an IV in if he doesn't wake up by this afternoon," Bobby remarked.

"He's not going to need it." 

"Dean the kid’s been without fluids for almost three days. He'll get dehydrated if he's not already."

"He was up last night."

"What?" Sam asked, his voice an octave higher than normal.

"I couldn't sleep so I was downstairs. I caught him trying to sneak out last night." 

"That kid’s in no shape to be going anywhere," Bobby grumbled.

"True, and I informed him of that fact. He wasn't too taken with my reasoning."

"Did he say how he got hurt?" Sam asked.

"I asked him that, all I got was a snotty glare. I hated to hurt his feelings and tell him I was immune thanks to getting practice ignoring yours." Dean grinned when Sam rolled his   
eyes at him.

"Well, did he say anything?" Bobby asked, exasperated.

"I got his name, it's Alec by the way, no last name though.

Did you ask him why he had your face? " Bobby asked. 

"Nope, he looked a little spooked to see me, so I'm guessing he didn't have a clue someone else had it. He ate three sandwiches and drank a bunch of water. He's probably going to have to hit the head soon." Dean grinned when they heard the plumbing go off overhead.

"He's a quiet little fucker," Sam mumbled under his breath.

"Guess he learned the squeaky boards last night when he kept hitting them." Dean shrugged, getting up and going to the bottom of the steps. "Alec, stop hovering up there and come get some breakfast."

He was a little surprised the kid listened, but he figured the same smell that had pulled him downstairs worked on Alec as well. Dean assumed Bobby had left some of their old clothes in the bedroom because the kid was wearing a pair of faded jeans and a flannel shirt. He ushered Alec into the kitchen, almost running into him when the boy stopped suddenly and looked Bobby and Sam over warily.

Bobby stood and grabbed another plate, but Sam stayed seated, aware of how intimidating his height could be to people. Dean waited patiently for Alec to make up his mind, and released his breath when Alec made his decision and shuffled towards the table. 

Breakfast was a quiet affair. No one was quite sure where to start asking questions, and Alec was content to ignore everything except his breakfast. Eventually, Sam couldn't contain himself anymore, his curiosity getting the better of him, but the kick to the shin had him shutting up and glaring at his brother.

Dean pushed his chair back. "I'm going to go work on the Impala. Alec you want to come?"

Alec took a quick look around the table before nodding his head.

"There's an old pair of boots and a heavy coat in the closet, make sure you put them on," Bobby grumbled to Alec's back as the boy slowly made his way back upstairs.

"Dean, we need to find out what's going on and why he looks like you," Sam growled, exasperated. 

"I know," Dean agreed, pulling his own coat on. 

"Then why are you dragging him outside? Not to mention he should probably be upstairs resting not outside in the cold monkeying around."

"He's not going to talk right now, he's outnumbered. He has no idea who we are or where he is, or even if he can trust us. If he stays upstairs he's just going to be mulling over ways to get out of here and we all know that’s not safe."

"Like he's not going to be casing an escape route outside with you." Sam looked over at Bobby, hoping for some support, but the older man was just nodding his head.

"Dean's right, no matter how relaxed he looked while he was eating, you can best believe he was fighting the flight instinct. I'm sure he's going to be looking for a way out, but he knows he's in no shape to fight, and from the looks of it, he’s got nowhere to go," Bobby surmised. "I think as long as he knows he's not a prisoner, he'll stay put."

"Besides, there're heaters out in the hanger, he'll be fine." Dean shot down the last part of Sam's argument before he could bring it back up again.

Alec found the items the older man had mentioned. The boots must have been ten years old but they fit him pretty well, the coat swallowed him but it was better than freezing his ass off. He'd been ready to bolt when Dean suggested going outside. He knew he probably wouldn't have gotten very far but the walls had started to close in around him.

Dean was waiting at the door when he made his way back downstairs and he hurriedly followed his doppelganger, not wanting to deal with the other men in the house. Outside, it was cold as some of the Artic simulations he'd been put through. He hadn't enjoyed it then and wasn't any happier about it now, but it beat hiding in the bedroom to avoid the other normals in the house.

He took in his surroundings with all the training Manticore had poured into him. Alec was impressed by the defensibility of the property. The cars piled everywhere would look haphazard to casual observers, but he could see they had been placed with care to not only be used as cover, but with some sort of a pattern to them. 

Alec didn't have any idea why these men would need to take cover, but the hardware Dean had hidden around his body might be a clue. He knew there were at least two guns and five knives, but he was sure there was more. He made a mental note to walk the property when he was feeling up to it and see if he could figure out what was going on.

The hanger was just as frigid as the outside, but Dean flipped several switches, turning on the heaters along with the lights. It didn't take long for the warm air to start circulating and Alec let his shoulders unbunch from around his ears. There were shelves of tools and several machines set up around the perimeter of the hanger, but the large black car sitting in the middle drew his attention like a magnet.

He slowly walked around it, trailing his hand along her body, noting the small imperfections that gave her character and told of a life spent traveling the road. Alec looked up to find Dean watching him with the look of a proud father, and he couldn't help but smile.

"She yours?"

"Yeah, my dad gave her to me when I turned 16. Of course, I'd been driving since I was 12," Dean answered with a cocky grin. 

"Sweet ride," Alec acknowledged.

"Thanks. I've got some routine maintenance to do and then I have to wash the salt off her. We try to stay to the warmer states during the winter to keep that shit of my baby, but it doesn't always work out that way." 

"You don't live here?'

"Nope, we live wherever we land, but we stay here at Bobby's when we're close enough."

"So what do you do?" Alec asked, watching as Dean took out an assortment of tools.

"Well, that's a little complicated,” Dean answered, popping the hood and pulling the tray of tools closer as he contemplated his options.  
Alec watched Dean ponder his question for a minute before the man set the tools aside and leaned his hip against the car and crossed his arms over his chest.

"I could lie to you, but that's not going to help with the whole trust issue we have right now. If I tell you the truth, you're not going to believe it, either way it's a risk so I might as well tell you the truth. If you stick around long enough you can see for yourself."

"Okay..." Alec mumbled, not real sure what he was supposed to say. It wasn’t as if Dean was giving him anything to work with.  
Dean sighed. "We're hunters, and no, I don't mean chase Bambi through the woods, although we've done that too."

"So what exactly do you hunt then?" Alec asked, his heart starting to jack rabbit in his chest. He wasn't sure he shouldn't already be running.

"The typical things that go bump in the night. Ghosts, poltergeists, vamps, werewolves, anything supernatural."

Alec studied Dean's face for any signs the man was joking, but Dean didn't even blink, just stared back at him waiting to see his response. As crazy as it sounded, if he told Dean that he was a genetically engineered human with mixed DNA, he'd probably sound just as nuts so he was going to roll with it.

"Exactly how did your guidance counselor pick that occupation out of the catalog?"

Dean snorted and turned back to the car, relaxing as Alec moved a little closer to watch. He started explaining what he was doing after the boy had been watching him for a half an hour without making a sound. 

They'd been in the hanger most of the morning and Dean knew it was just a matter of time before Sam's patience ran out and he came to investigate how things were going. He felt Alec stiffen beside him just moments before the door was pushed open. Dean didn't have to look to know it was Sam. It was hard wired into him to know when his brother was close by.

"Lunch ready?" Dean asked, pulling his head out from under the hood, and wiping his hands on a rag.

"Yeah, Bobby said if you want anything you better bring your ass in cause he's not going to bring it to you."

"And here I thought he was going to put on an apron and bring me a tray," Dean snarked.

"I'll be sure to let him know," Sam answered, but most of his attention was on Alec.

Dean had noticed the subtle shifting beside him, but had decided not to call attention to the fact that the kid had moved into a classic fight or flight stance. He could almost hear the internal battle going on inside the boy’s head, and he figured it was time to defuse the situation.

He looked over at Alec, nodding at the door. "Why don't you go on in and get washed up, I'll clean up out here and be right behind you."

Alec glanced at him and then back at Sam before nodding and edging his way to the door. Sam moved further into the hanger and out of the way of the door, giving Alec more space to pass.

"Did you see that?" Sam asked as he helped Dean clean off the tools and waited as his brother put everything away.

"His stance?"

"Yeah, looked military."

"So does ours, neither one of us has been in a branch, not to mention the last time I checked they didn't take kids as young as he'd have to been to have that already ingrained in him."

"Hunter's kid maybe?" Sam turned the heaters off and followed Dean out into the yard.

"Nah, he didn't have a clue what I was talking about when I told him what we did."

Sam grabbed his arm stopping their forward progress. "You told him. Why the hell would you do that? We don't even know who he is."

"He asked and that kid's not going to give us a damn thing unless he can trust us," Dean growled.

Sam sighed, he knew his brother was probably right, but it went against everything they'd been told growing up. "What did he say?"

"He didn't say anything. Didn't really surprise me any, I know I'd have kept my mouth shut."

"You do know he's not you, right? Even if he's a clone, he's still not you."

"Of course he's not, there can only be one Dean Winchester."

Sam rolled his eyes, but couldn't help grinning as he followed his brother into the house.


	4. Chapter 4

Lunch wasn't quite as tense as breakfast had been, but it wasn't relaxed either. Dean wasn't sure how many more meals he could go through like the last two without developing an ulcer. He was startled out of his train of thought by Alec clearing his throat and addressing Bobby.

"Would it be okay if I took a shower?"

"Sure you can, boy. Towels are in the closet by the bathroom," Bobby informed him. 

"Dean, why don't you see if you've got anything Alec can wear until someone can go into town and get him some clothes of his own," Sam suggested.

"I can just put these back on," Alec interrupted. "It's no big deal."

"Sort of defeats the purpose of a shower, though," Sam reasoned, smiling as Alec scowled at him.

That particular scowl always made Dean look all of five years old, and on Alec, it just made him look like a particularly pissed-off kitten.

"No, Sam's right." Dean wrinkled his nose in thought. "I'm just trying to remember if I have anything that's clean. I was going to start some laundry last night, but I got sidetracked," he admitted, grinning over at Alec's disgruntled look.

"Your clothes are in the dryer, I did them while you were outside," Sam informed his brother. 

"Awesome!" Dean stood up and stretched before pointing at Alec. "I'll have you some clothes outside the door for you."

Dean ruffled his brother's hair as he passed. "You are the best wife ever."

Sam ducked away from his brother, rolling his eyes. He glanced over at Alec, watching the kid frown at this interaction.

"Don't mind us, it comes from living inside each other's pocket all our lives. We'll go into town as soon as you're ready."

"You don't have to go to any trouble," Alec stated, still unsure of his position among these men and what they could possibly want from him.

"We've got to go get Bobby some groceries anyway. You need the basics end of story, even if I was willing to let you manage, which I'm not, Dean wouldn't. Now go on and take that shower, Dean can be a real mother hen given the chance."

"Whatever man," Alec grumbled.

Bobby snorted when Sam heaved a sigh. "Not as easy as Dean makes it look is it?"

Sam shot the older man a glare. "Man, I'm trying here. Dean’s had a hell of a lot more experience at this shit. It would help if we knew exactly where he came from and who’s after him. I feel like I'm walking a tight rope."

“I understand, but you don't want to be regretting any decisions made in haste either. We all have enough regrets to be adding to them when there's no cause. I'm already working on some things, maybe I'll have some answers when ya'll get back." Bobby patted his shoulder as he walked past.

The ride into town was mostly quiet. Dean kept the music low in case Alec decided he had something to say, but one of them were surprised when that didn't happen. There wasn't a second-hand store, the town being too small to support one, but there were a couple of decent shops with low prices. The boys always used their cash when they were in town because everyone knew they stayed with Bobby, and you just didn't use fake credit cards that close to home.

Alec stopped just inside the door. Dean took one look at Alec's face, grabbed a pair of jeans and a flannel shirt, and told him to go try them on. Sam snickered at the ugly look Alec shot his brother before he headed to the dressing room Dean had pointed at. Dean completely ignored him and started grabbing articles of clothes, sending Sam in search of a heavy coat for the kid. By the time Alec came out of the dressing room, Dean had a decent size stack of items at the register and was inspecting footwear.

"Why did you tell me to try this stuff on if you already knew what size I wore?" Alec asked, confused.

"You look like you were overwhelmed so it was the easiest way to get you doing something," Dean answered, never looking up from the boots he was checking over.

Alec put the jeans and shirt with the rest of the clothes. "You know, I really don't need this much stuff," he grumbled.

Dean glanced over at the register where the clerk was grinning. "Airline lost his clothes," He said in answer to the girl's unstated question.

She smiled as she started ringing up the items. "Brothers, they're always so grumpy."

Sam had been watching from the coat section and couldn't help startle at the clerk's assumption. It wasn't that he hadn't thought it himself, but to hear someone else put it into words was a little jarring. Even if Alec was a clone, which was honestly the only thing that made sense to him, if the boy wasn't a shifter, Alec shared genetic material with them so that made him family in one way or another. He finally settled on a coat and grabbed a couple of hoodies on his way back to join Dean by the shoes. His brother glanced at the hoodies, rolling his eyes and then over at the coat in his hands and nodded.

"Did you get the coat a size larger?"

"Yes, Dean," Sam answered with exaggerated patience, glancing over at Alec. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad having someone else that Dean could mother-hen around.

"Is he always so bossy?" Alec whispered when Sam came to stand beside him.

"Yeah, you'll get used to it," Sam whispered back.

Alec wasn't too sure about that, but he couldn't argue with the fact that it felt good to have someone give a damn about him outside of what he could do for them.

The ride to the grocery store took less than five minutes, but Alec still hadn't prepared himself for actually being in one, shopping for clothes had been bad enough. He'd never admit it, but Dean taking over had been a relief.

He'd had plenty of training classes, and seen videos on a multitude of different 'normal' things so that he could acclimate when he actually went on missions. Problem was, he had no practical experience. 

All his training had stopped without explanation he'd been shuttled off to the basement and left at the tender mercies of the lab rats. No one would tell him what was going on, so over the course of several months, while pretending to still be unconscious after some of the procedures they put him through, he'd found out that he'd been a twin and his brother for lack of a better word, had gone off the reservation.

It hadn't taken him long to realize that the only way he was getting out of there alive was to find a way to escape. His twin had apparently killed a couple guards, and several civilians. There was no way they would take a chance that whatever genetic flaw had been in his twin wasn't in him as well. Once they finished tearing him apart they'd terminate him, and he had no desire to die.

"Hey kid, you still alive back there?" Dean's voice shook him out of his memories. 

Alec slid out of the car, following the two men into the brightly lite store. He trailed behind Sam as he pushed the cart, watching Dean as he moved from aisle to aisle, placing things in the basket with quick precise movements.

The only time their momentum slowed was when they moved to the bakery, and then it stalled completely in the front of the pie case. Alec couldn't help the tiny smile from creeping across his face as Dean's lit up.

"I'll be at the chips when you finish communing with your pie." Sam grinned at Alec, rolling his eyes as he headed to the other end of the aisle. Alec shuffled up beside Dean, peering into the case to see what was so important. He eyed the different confections, seeing no real difference since they all had filling and some had toppings on them.

"So what's your favorite kind?" Dean asked without looking away from the display.

"Don't know," Alec mumbled.

"What do you mean don't know? Like, you can't make up your mind don't know?" Dean glanced his way.

"No, I mean I've never tried any," Alec answered.

Dean jerk his head around and stare at him horrified. "Seriously?" 

Alec answered him, looking back at the pies. "What kind do you like?"

Dean continued to stare at him for another few seconds before he glanced back at the case. "I like them all. I usually get cherry or apple, they're the one's we usually find at the diners, but chocolate cream is awesome too."

Dean reached into the case to grab all three flavors before adding lemon and pecan to the basket.

Sam ambled back over, stopping short when he was about to throw the bags of chips into the cart. "Dean do we need to have another intervention?" He asked as he eyed the five pies.

"No." Dean shot him an ugly glare.

"The boy's never had a pie. That's like criminal, we have to rectify that immediately!" 

"By sending him into a diabetic coma?" Sam asked still looking at the containers piled up in the basket.

"Bite Me," Dean grumbled.

"Not right now, too public," Sam shot back before his brain could catch up to his mouth. He spun towards Alec, trying to ignore his brother gaping at him.

"You should feel privileged he's planning on sharing. Usually, you'd lose a hand if you tried to get his pie," Sam told a confused Alec.

Alec just nodded his head, looking between the two brothers, trying to figure out what was going on. When no one seemed to be inclined to explain, he shrugged and followed a bewildered Dean to the cash register, with Sam trailing behind them.

Dean was quiet on the ride back as he listened to Sam answer questions that Alec was asking about what they did for a living and why they did it. Alec seemed much less shocked than most people and it left Dean with even more questions about the kid than he already had.

He wasn't surprised when Bobby met them at the door with a worried expression on his face. The older man waited until the groceries were unloaded, lifting his eyebrows at the amount of pie Dean had come back with, and Alec had wandered upstairs to put his new clothes away.

"What's up?" Dean finally asked, grabbing two beers and dropping into one of the kitchen chairs. 

"I sent that picture I took to a guy I know," Bobby explained.

"What did he find?" Sam asked.

"Nothing, but less than thirty seconds after he uploaded it to his search engines and started running whatever it is he does, all his alarms went off and he had to block several attempts to trace him."

Dean's bottle hit the table with a loud thud. "Did they find him?" 

"No, Frank's good, great even. He's also a paranoid son of a bitch, but in this case I think he's got reason to be." Bobby sighed, pushing his hat back and scratching his head. "He works out of an RV, doesn't stay in one place very long, so he's already hit the road."

"So now what?" Sam leaned forward, trying to loosen some of the tension in his shoulders.

"Frank knows someone, says they're better than he is, which has to be an understatement for him to even admit something like that," Bobby admitted.

"Can they be trusted?" Dean asked, his voice gruff, his demeanor deadly serious.

"If Frank suggested them, they've got to have some kind of resume. Like I said, the man is paranoid as hell. He doesn't know them by anything but their code name." 

"Code name?" Dean questioned.

"Whoever it is, they're a hacker," Sam answered for Bobby.

"Awesome!" Dean groaned.

"I think it's time we have a more serious conversation with the boy," Bobby suggested.

"Yeah, I'll go get him." Dean reluctantly climbed to his feet and headed for the stairs.

Dean knocked on Alec's door and waited until the boy to answer before sticking his head in. It wasn't something he'd do with Sam, but they'd lived in each other's space for so long it never occurred to them to observe the niceties.

Alec was just closing the dresser drawer when Dean pushed the door open.

"Something has come up. We've got to talk," Dean answered Alec's confused look before he could ask any questions.

"Sure," Alec agreed, as he shoved his hands in his pockets. He brushed passed Dean and headed down the stairs.

Dean sighed, following behind the kid. He wished they could put this off a little longer, there was no way the kid trusted them enough to tell them shit. They'd be lucky if he gave them anything at all.

Alec followed Dean down the stairs and into the living room. He dropped into the closest chair, watching as Dean sat down on the couch next to Sam.

Bobby waited until everyone was settled before he turned the computer around to face Alec. "Do you know who this is?" He asked as he gestured to the enlarged picture on the screen.

Alec studied it for a few seconds. "No. Who is he?"

Bobby sighed, "We were hoping you knew. He was at a roadblock the locals had set up inspecting the vehicles that were passing through. I was headed home with you, [but] luckily I stashed you in the trunk instead of the backseat. I'm pretty sure you were the one he was looking for, and he was more than a little suspicious that I had you because I found a tracker on my rear end a few miles down the road. "

Dean wasn't really surprised when the kid didn't question being put into the trunk versus the backseat. If there was military training in his background, he knew one of the main rules was never to put a potential threat within striking distance, especially when you're in a vulnerable position. He also didn't miss the flash of fear in Alec's eyes before the kid was a blank slate again, neither did Sam if the elbow digging into his ribs was any indication.

"Look Alec, I know you don't trust us, and if I was in your shoes I wouldn't be trusting us either. I also know it's a pretty safe bet we're all you got, cause you haven't tried to contact anyone, and you've had more than enough opportunities. Now we're willing to help you, but unless we know what's going on, we can't do squat."

Dean watched as Alec sized up the situation, glancing at each one of them and back at the picture on the screen, finally slumping down in the chair. He felt like he was watching himself in the mirror when Alec started chewing on his thumb. 

Sam groaned beside him, and grumbled, "Great, another nail biter."

"Shut up," Dean mumbled, elbowing him in the side at the same time Alec dropped his hand and scowled over at them.

"I really don't know who he is. If I had to guess I'd say he was government, not the ones you know either, but the super-secret handshake kind," Alec finally answered.

Bobby blanched a little, and swung the computer around to look at it again. "Yeah, that's what I was afraid you were going to say."

"Why? What happened?" Alec asked, sitting up straight in his seat again, looking from one man to the next.

"I had someone looking into it. Unfortunately, it set off a bunch of alarms," Bobby explained.

Dean hadn't seen anyone lose all color as quickly as Alec's face drained. He shifted to the edge of his seat, in case he had to catch the kid before he passed out. 

Alec swung his head around, sighting all the exits, and Dean knew he was going to either bolt or hyperventilate. He made it to the kid’s chair before he could accomplish either and put a hand on Alec's shoulder, squeezing gently. 

"Nobody's coming for you Alec. They don't know where you are, and we're going to keep it that way. It'd be a hell of a lot easier if you'd just tell us what's going on. I mean are you AWOL or something?" Dean asked.

"Or something," Alec mumbled, heaving a huge sigh. He realized he had very few options, just maybe something would work in his favor for once.

"Look, all I ask is you give me a head start before you try to kill me okay," Alec requested, looking grim.

Dean pulled up the chair beside the kid and sat down, glancing over at his brother to see equal parts surprise and worry in Sam's furrowed brow.

"I thought you said you tested him," Sam growled.

"I did, the boy. I've been at this a hell of a lot longer than you. He didn't react to anything, not silver, holy water or anything else I could think of. Hell, his blood runs red, and I even did a couple of exorcisms just to make sure," Bobby growled back.

"How bout we hear him out before you get your panties in a twist," Dean suggested. 

Thankfully, the arguing in the room shut up pretty quickly, and all the attention was focused back on Alec.

"I'm not exactly sure where to start, and I really don't have all that much information either," Alec started. He knew he was stalling, but he was also being honest. 

"Just tell us what you do know, and we'll see if it gives us somewhere to start from," Sam responded.

"I grew up in a military instillation. We were raised there. " 

"We?" Dean questioned.

"Yeah, I wasn't the only one. We were raised in units, there were six to eight in each unit. We slept in the same room, took our meals at the same time, did PT, and trained together. When we got older, they'd send us for individual training, we each had a specialization."

"What was yours?" Sam asked, leaning forward.

"Hand to hand combat, but they also had me at the shooting range. I hadn't finished all the modules yet, so I don't know what kind of missions they were going to send me on."

"Missions?" Bobby echoed.

"Yeah, we were constantly told the training we were doing was for missions. There were invariably whispers about what some of the units had done, but they never let us interact with units that were ahead of us. I mean they rarely let us interact with anyone outside our own unit, only if unless they thought it would help us attain some higher efficiency," Alec explained.

"So why would this make us hunt you?" Dean asked, still stuck on why the kid would think they would kill him.

Alec glanced around at all the exits again, and Dean could see the muscles under the kid's skin bunch in preparation for a fight.

"Because I'm not entirely human," Alec stated softly, waiting for the shock wave of his latest bombshell to hit.


End file.
